


Just Another Party At The Graveyard Shift

by orcsmoocher



Category: Nightbound (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canon Continuation, Fluff, M/M, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:14:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23069074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orcsmoocher/pseuds/orcsmoocher
Summary: The half-Fae, Celeste, finally has a chance to revisit his friends after the events of Nightbound during his thirtieth birthday party. Based on a piece of art that I drew. Find out what I had in mind for what my MC was up to after all this time, and sit around for some stories! This takes place 4 years after the epilogue of NB.
Relationships: Nik Ryder/Main Character (Nightbound)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Just Another Party At The Graveyard Shift

The sun dipped below the horizon as a half-Fae named Celeste approached the little hole-in-the-wall bar in New Orleans that quickly became one of his many creature comforts ever since he arrived for his twenty-fifth birthday all those years ago. Only tonight he turned thirty (but luckily, his Fae blood lended him the fresh face of one many years his younger), and had many more friends to share it with this time. His best friend, Kristin, was unable to make the trip all the way down from New York despite her excitement over a potential second visit... but earlier that day they spent so long on the phone to make up for it he was almost too tired to make the trip to the little bar. They had remained as close as ever at such a long distance, such that it was almost as if they’d never been separated - although, their friendship was still veiled in so many secrets whose answers he wished he could spill. To Kristin, he had decided to stay and take on a job offered to him as a broker for a few small firms - which was at least slightly believable, given his economics major; he was also living on his own in an apartment above a local bar, adopted a kitten of which pictures were constantly sent, and _yes_ , he was still with the ‘total hottie’. 

As he walked up to the bar’s door, his perrikin trotting behind him happily, he knocked on it curtly. Once, twice, three-four. The old wooden barrier swung open with a creak, revealing Garrus dressed up in his usual work garb. Celeste quickly swept up the thin bartender in a crushing hug, easily dwarfing the thin Fae’s figure in both height and weight. He really hadn’t seen much of his friends in a while, being so busy in Lamrian; endless days of learning the intricacies of Fae law, conferences, and magic lessons blurred together for the better part of four years. There were a few lucky days where he could sneak away for a time, like tonight. Eventually he ceased crushing poor Garrus and stepped inside, immediately letting his glamour drop. His casual outfit, his favorite combination of a red long-sleeved shirt with black jeans, shimmered with silvery magic as the illusion that ensorcelled it faded away. It was a simple spell, but his favorite. It left him wearing regal silk attire, an elegant peacock costume that he had tailored for him after he became inspired by other Fae clothing he saw. The crisp look of his overcoat with the breezy, flowing silk of his gown added a particular flair to his dance, a skill that he employed during college to pay for his tution - that is to say, he knew his way around a pole, and since kept it up as a hobby to maintain a lithe, healthy figure. Although this particular outfit was ‘adapted’ to be suitable for lavish charity dinners and other outings - the only skin it showed was his legs (though that could easily be changed), and he usually wore a pair of leggings or shorts that covered them down to either his knees or ankles depending on the needs of the event. Tonight, though, he let his long legs go bare - there were no stuffy millenia-old politicians breathing down his neck tonight. He adjusted the loose cloth belt looped around his waist as the hem of his gold-trimmed gown faded into existence, sweeping past the threshold of the bar and making a beeline for the counter where the rest of his friends sat.

The Graveyard Shift was completely empty, save for the small party of seven that awaited there. Garrus, the sweetheart, had closed it so they could have the space all to their own for the party. He could see each pair of eyes light up as he approached, his own lips curling into a toothy grin. Cal stood up to greet him first, giving his hand a firm shake before pulling him into an amicable hug. As Celeste wrapped his arms around Cal, he brushed his lips over the air in front of the werewolf’s cheeks in greeting; repeating the gesture for the rest of the group until finally his eyes settled on Nik. With a single stride he stepped forward and quickly threw his arms around the Nighthunter’s neck, capturing his rough lips in a deep kiss which Nik returned heartily, stubble tickling Celeste’s soft skin. Nik gave him a lopsided grin as he leaned back in his seat, his features rough but dark eyes sparkling with affection. “Missed you too, Rook,” he said with an undercurrent of humor, pulling a small flask from the inside pocket of his coat and offering it to his companion. As Celeste unscrewed the cap and took a grateful drink, his nose immediately wrinkling, the liquid burning all the way down. “How’ve you been?”

Celeste shook his head and huffed, coughing a little, still taking a second sip regardless. “Fine - great, actually.” Before he could continue, Katherine threw her head back and laughed, eyes falling on Cal. Tiny growling sounded from somewhere beside them. The werewolf easily towered over the small creature that had taken residence on the bar stool that he sat on just a minute before. 

"E-easy there, kitty…" The werewolf cooed uneasily, inching closer to the bar - but the little perrikin, Oracle, bared her needle-like fangs and puffed up her feathers as he approached. Despite the menacing arch of her back, though, she did not attempt to move off of the previously occupied stool. “Oracle is such a little brat. You spoil her too much.” He let out a fake sigh as he shook his head. Celeste chuckled, running a hand along the feline’s feathery back, murmuring _‘be nice’_ into her ears. 

"The big bad wolf is letting a kitten steal his spot, how rich," Katherine teased, reaching forward to stroke Oracle’s head herself. The party stood there for a while, joking and catching up, until soon enough they split up to drink and have their own conversations. Cal shot his stolen seat one more wistful look before crossing the hardwood floor in several long strides to where Katherine and Vera stood close to the entrance of the bar, the creaking of the wood hidden by the droning of the lively conversation all around. Vera gave a small wave, tilting her head in a way that made her chocolate-brown curls bounce. 

"So, I was thinking… Before all of this bloodwraith business, I was going to apply to law school in New York after Mardi Gras. Get out of New Orleans as soon as possible, you know?" Vera said, fiddling with the ends of her long silk gloves. “Funny how plans change.”

"...We're so charming that you couldn’t bring yourself to leave, right?" Cal asked with a humorous smile. 

Vera laughed lightly, a wide grin breaking out on her face. "That's certainly part of it," she replied. "Truth is, I felt like leaving would be showing my mother that I was afraid all over again - even if that seems a little silly… After a while, I realized that maybe I could make a life here." She glanced over at the bar, stealing a look at the silk-robe clad half-Fae embroiled in a deep conversation with Nik. After Ivy broke the curse that tormented her for so long, she had realized that her mother couldn’t control her anymore. She quickly found work organizing events for the city, including some of the Fae’s public outings with Celeste’s guidance, and was perfectly happy to do so. In some respects she did regret not returning to New York with Kristin and applying to the school of law there like she’d initially planned - niggling feelings that she was being watched from the shadows made sure of that.

Katherine reached forward and put a hand to Vera's shoulder, giving her an amicable squeeze. "Right on. Though, I don't think any one of us would actually be offended if you high-tailed it out of here after what happened." 

Cal agreed with a nod, taking a sip of his drink. "Even after all this time I'm still not the Pack's favorite wolf. Packing up and leaving with Donny crossed my mind a few times too, but in the end there's no place I'd rather be."

“How is the Pack, anyway?” Vera asked. “Since Kristof…”

“Octavia took over and started whipping them into shape. She asks me for advice sometimes, but she’s as hard-headed as ever. Rarely takes it.” Cal shrugged with a smirk. “Other than that I don’t really know - I live outside the grounds now.”

At the other side of the bar, Nik traced circles on the smooth wood of the bartop with his fingers as he leaned against the counter casually. Occasionally his eyes wandered downwards, raking over the figure of the half-Fae standing with him before flitting back to his red-flushed face. "You'd think years of sharing snake tequila with me would make you better at handling your liquor, Celeste," he teased, motioning to the half-full mug of the fizzy beverage that his companion was nursing. He couldn't help but notice the subtle way that the long silks that covered the half-Fae head-to-toe swayed as he moved, sparkling as it caught the flickering lights of the Graveyard Shift's warm candle-lit atmosphere. Celeste shushed Nik with an exaggerated _hush_ , bringing his mug to his lips - slowly, almost daintily, before abandoning any air of civility and tipping it back for a long drink. He let out a sigh of contentment, a line of fizz dribbling down his chin. Ethereal, sparkling butterflies circled his presence lazily, leaving trails of shining dust in their wake.

"Hush, you," Celeste scolded playfully, interrupted by a sharp hiccup. "I've been busy learning how to run a Fae city - I don't get the chance to drink more than a glass of wine at dinner. It's nice to have a night to cut loose and practice my magic, though." 

"Speaking of…" A smooth voice trailed off behind Celeste, accompanied by the sound of liquid pouring. Garrus slid a freshly-filled mug towards the half-Fae, the sparkling blue liquid bubbling, a sheen of silver glinting across the surface like a pane of glass. "The Fae Realm's finest for your thirtieth birthday… M'lord." With a playful wink, he stepped away to tend to their other friends. 

"Don't get too big for your britches," Nik said, brow raised as his Fae friend accepted the offering. Celeste rolled his eyes, smiling, quickly polishing off his first drink and moving onto the next. His face was flushed from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, already feeling tipsy. 

"What can I say?" Celeste replied slowly, casting Nik a mischievous grin, fluttering his dark lashes slightly in a way that made Nik blush - who put in a significant effort to hide it behind his cup as he took a sip. "I always liked being pampered - and tonight if you're good, I'll let you draw my bath before bed…"

"Hell, I get the privilege to serve you?" Nik said with a chuckle. "Be still, my beating heart." To his chagrin, a wave of excitement jolted through him at the word 'bath' like he was a dog hearing whispers of an upcoming walk - even if nothing especially raunchy went on (and most times got pretty heated), one of the half-Fae's titular washings was not to be missed. Rook sure learned the good stuff quickly in Lamrian. Though, it was difficult to maintain his gruff, no-nonsense, monster-killing exterior smelling like a flower garden from heaven. Mind racing, he shook off increasingly inappropriate thoughts with a wave of his hand. "But we should save all that talk for later…" Celeste pursed his lips in a pout as a woman's voice called over to him from across the bar. They looked up and caught Ivy's scarlet eyes, her mottled grey hand hooking her finger towards herself to beckon them over. As they approached Oracle let out a loud _prr-ow!_ , gingerly leaping up and alighting on Celeste's shoulder. Even as an adult, the perrikin was barely larger than a crow and about as light as one, too, but with comically long legs hidden under a fluffy feathered body.

Ivy waved a small hand mirror in front of Celeste's face, showing an image not of his reflection - instead, staring back at him was a black-clad woman with long braided hair peering from under the wide brim of a black-and-white striped witch's hat. "I was telling my friend here about the bloodwraith. Mind if she can take a look at your sicknasty scar?"

"Ivy…" Krom warned, but before he could continue Celeste was already hurriedly popping the buttons of his vest open. "Seriously?" The stone troll raised a brow, concern written across his craggy features. Celeste waved him off.

"It was almost five years ago, darling," Celeste replied, "Besides, not everyone gets killed and lives to tell the tale - I'd be lying if I said I wasn't proud." 

"And it looks cool as hell." Ivy piped up, curiosity lighting up her features as she positioned the mirror so that it was pointing at the half-Fae's bare torso. A wicked scar of rough, silvery flesh ran from his sternum to his navel, and Celeste ran a finger down the jagged mark.

"To put it plainly, I felt my insides become outsides as it killed me. I remember my hands going to my belly like I was trying to put 'em back in..." His eyes became intense, but his voice remained strangely giddy as he recalled the event, slurring just a little due to the alcohol. Nik’s expression went overcast and he averted his eyes. Cal, Vera, and Katherine wandered over to find out what everyone was gathering around to see, only to join the others in their pensive stares as they realized what they were hearing. “...and the Realm of Shadow is just unreal. So empty and quiet - but not scary at all, weirdly enough. Smells like a musty old wool blanket, for some reason, and thrums with magic. Not the worst place the dead can go. I guess at the time I was rightly terrified, but now I wonder how nice it’d be to keel over with a good book,” Only Ivy seemed excited to hear as Celeste recounted the tale, and after a while he took notice of the grim sea of faces around him. “Did I say too much?”

“Little bit, Rook,” Nik answered quietly, physically shaking his head to rip himself out of a distant memory. He relived it most nights, especially when he came home to an empty apartment. His partner, however, had a newfound carefree attitude about the whole thing - it was almost like when he came back from beyond the grave, the part of him that was supposed to fear death was left behind. It mostly served to make him into an even bigger pain in the ass; as he grew more powerful, he got even more reckless. At least he could take care of himself now - and as much as he complained, he had to admit he liked having a hunting partner with the bravado that Celeste brought - but there was always the worry that he would get himself killed for real one day. “--but it’s fine.” 

“Darling…” Celeste replied, eyes dropping to the floor as he fumbled for his vest’s buttons. After he was covered again Nik subtly took the half-Fae’s soft hands in his and rubbed gentle circles along them comfortingly. The man had a way of making sure that Nik would never be able to stay mad or upset for long, it seemed. For all of Celeste’s more irritating traits there was always a silver lining to them that he couldn’t help but appreciate. Not enough to stop griping about them, but he loved every part of him all the same. After a moment, the half-Fae lifted his gaze and smiled, looking over the group. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put a damper on the mood for everyone. Ah… how about a funny story to cheer everyone up? Did I ever get a chance to tell you all about the swamp ghoul?" Beside him, Nik groaned audibly, making Katherine snicker and elbow him in the side. The mood in the room lifted considerably, the party beginning to pass drinks around once more as they prepared for a night of cheerful storytelling.

"Sounds like another of your unique jobs, Nik," She crowed, "Why, it’s almost like you don't want him to tell."

Nik covered his face with his hands as he murmured something that sounded like _it could have gone better_... Unbothered, Celeste continued to speak. "It was last year, as the social season in Lamrian was winding down. I managed to convince my guards to let me go visit him alone, as we had a date that night…"

"Less 'date,' more job,"

"...Right. Anyway, it was just the two of us trudging through the bayou at three in the morning, hunting down a bileth-dai - that's 'mud-walker' in the Fae tongue - with freezing rain pouring on our heads and mud up to our knees…” Celeste began to recount the tale, describing the bayou in every little detail excitedly, wiggling his fingers for emphasis as he talked. 

He and Nik dragged their feet through the deep mud, occasionally stopping for a break underneath one of the towering cypresses. Cricketsong and chirping of nightbirds filled the empty air between their heavy breaths. “This… is torture,” Celeste panted, summoning a ball of light in his palm and throwing it into the air. The orb exploded into a hail of golden sparks which formed a sparkling shell that deflected the cold rain from coming down on their heads. Nik wiped his muddy hands on his trenchcoat, leaning heavily on the trunk of the tree.

“No… no kidding,” Nik replied, struggling to catch his breath himself. “I’m beginning to think the damn thing’s made up - if we were really on its trail, then it would’ve tried to drag us under already.”

“And we’re very ripe for the grabbing.” Celeste laughed breathlessly. “You owe me big time for this, Nik. I was expecting something fun for my first date in months.”

Nik opened his mouth to reply, only to clamp his mouth shut and put a finger to his lips. They began to hear a subtle sucking sound underneath all of the noise of the bog, as if someone - or something - was moving through the mud. Slowly, he pulled the crossbow from its holster on his back. Celeste jumped back in surprise as he felt the watery soil shift around his legs and a hard object graze his ankle. “Ah!” He cried, struggling to lift his foot from the mud but finding it increasingly difficult, the mud becoming impossibly thick and viscous. Above him, his magic dissipated from lack of focus and the sudden shock of the rain pelting him from above caused him to cry out. “Nik, I think I found it!” 

“I’ve got you, just stay still…” Nik quickly loaded a bolt into the crossbow, aiming at the ground at Celeste’s feet. The only signs of a creature under the blanket of wet soil was the subtle shifting and squelching of movement underneath - and for Celeste, the feeling of a slimy, bony hand wrapping around his ankle. Pointed fingertips dug into his skin as the creature began to tug downwards, mud rising up to encapsulate his legs and pull him down further. The half-Fae shot Nik a panicked look as he waited for the shot, finger poised over the trigger. For a half-second, the waves of mud below them split and the crest of a round, mossy dome of a skull peeked out. Nik pulled the trigger and with a splitting whistle the bolt flew straight through the creature’s head, the crack of the breaking bone muffled by the shifting earth. The creature let out a piercing shriek as it let Celeste go, the mud retreating from the half-Fae’s legs as a torrent suddenly lashed out towards Nik. Unable to react fast enough, the Nighthunter was knocked flat by the wave of rank soil and pinned onto his back. His crossbow disappeared somewhere under the earth, and the ghoul’s bony hands immediately grabbed hold of him, one hand around his head covering his mouth and the other clamping around his thigh. Breathing hard through his nose, he struggled feebly as the mud crawled higher and higher as if it had a mind of its own, pinning him down - dragging him under. On the ground against a bog-walker was not an optimal position to be in. Through the corner of his eye he saw the ghoul’s skull poking out from the mud, crossbow bolt embedded in its temple. It moved its flapping jaws in a silent, victorious cackle. Behind it, Celeste crept forward, hand outstretched and already crackling with magic.

“Get _off!_ ” The half-Fae yelled, his fingers hooking around one of the creature’s neck bones from behind. With surprising strength, he ripped the skeleton free from the confines of the roiling bog. The mud made sickly squelching sounds as it peeled away from the bones, the creature shrieking all the way until Celeste was holding it in the air proudly. Celeste laughed and glanced down towards Nik, who was still lying on the ground. He waved the still-screaming ghoul around like a child showing off a craft they had made, his other hand traveling to his waist to grab one of his long steel daggers from his belt. 

“Oh hell, Rook, put it down! Kill it!” Nik yelled, propping himself on his elbows while his hands scrambled to find his crossbow. He opened his mouth to say more but was interrupted by Celeste letting out a pained squawk. “Celeste!”

“A-ah!” The half-Fae moved to throw the ghoul, but it had turned its head backwards and clamped its jaws around his forearm. It bit down hard, pointed fangs sinking deep into Celeste’s gator-scale hunting jacket and breaking the skin underneath. A momentary flit of fear flickered across his features before his eyes narrowed with renewed intensity. Without much thought at all, he pivoted quickly towards a nearby tree trunk, swinging his shoulder and slamming his arm hard against the bark to dislodge the creature. The ghoul’s skull disintegrated with the force, a much-too-loud _snap_ echoing throughout the bog. Spikes of white-hot pain jolted from Celeste’s shoulder all the way down to his wrist, and he fell to his knees into a puddle of greasy mud as he cradled his injury…

Back in the present, Celeste chuckled heartily. He pointed vaguely towards Nik’s jacket, taking the flask that Nik produced from it and gulping the liquid fire down happily. “...there were bone fragments and sludge flying everywhere, and I got to save Nik’s ass for once. It was awesome.”

“You _broke_ your arm, Rook!” Nik added, sweeping his eyes over the group to indicate that he would continue the telling. ”--And after the dust cleared, he looked at me with these big ol’ eyes. Looked at me, then his arm, which was bent the complete opposite way that it should, by the way, then back at me again, and in an instant - tears,” He stopped to scold Celeste, who began to giggle. “Don’t even look at me like that, you scared the hell out of me.” 

“The way you word it makes it sound funny!” Celeste fired back, before his expression softened with affection. “...But you missed the part where you took me home. He tried to tell me old stories and jokes to make me feel better, and I ended up laughing and crying all the way back to Lamrian.” 

“I don’t imagine that Lady Thalissa was very happy that you were brought back in pieces,” Garrus noted, a sly smile playing at his lips.

“Oh, goodness no, she was pissed. I haven’t been able to leave Lamrian without an escort since.” Krom laughed at that, a deep bellow from his stony chest. 

“Aww, that was so sweet of you though, Nik,” Vera said, taking a small sip of the iced tea in her hands. Katherine snickered and nudged Nik in the side with her elbow.

“Yeah, who knew that our Big Bad Nighthunter was such a softie at heart?” Katherine laughed as Nik shot her a withering look, but it dropped quickly as the corners of his lips ticked up in amusement.

“Donny and I started hunting bigger game for our food together. Let me tell you about our first bear hunt…” Cal piped up, everyone gathering around to listen. Afterwards, Katherine told a riveting story of how she took down three Ferals at once, and Vera recounted old memories from college. Garrus idly played with Krom’s hands as they rested on the bartop, half-listening to the conversation as they quietly talked amongst themselves. The Graveyard Shift was lively with chatter from then on until the late hours of the night, countless used glasses littering the bartop as the party steadily drained the bar’s alcohol reserves dry…


End file.
